Page 77 of Dirty Pool

Considering …

Wondering …

Plotting.

And then his body felt Gabbie’s presence near, and he looked up to find her. At first, his attention went to the front entrance of the bar. He should have known better because nothing about his girl screamed stupid. She knew better than to walk into the place where anyone might see her.

Instead, Michel found Gabbie approaching him from the back of the bar. The hallway she’d come out of led to back rooms, bathrooms, and exit doors. There was usually someone in the back doing one thing or another, and would let someone in from the outside if they knocked on the door, and said they’d been out having a smoke or anything.

It wasn’t mob-owned.

They weren’t suspicious.

Michel said and did nothing until Gabbie was right in front of him. Close enough for him to really check her over and make sure she was okay, even if he had just left her not very long ago. And she was just close enough for him to reach out and grab her.

He did just that.

Once Gabbie was tucked in to his chest, and his arms were locked around her back, he felt slightly better. Like his world had finally tilted back on its proper axis, and everything was all right again. Strange how that worked.

She hid her face in his chest, and her hands fisted into his shirt. He wasn’t sure how long the two of them stayed like that—a minute, but maybe two. Long enough that the sounds of the bar drifted into the background, and it felt like it was just the two of them doing their usual thing together once more.

Nothing was wrong.

Everything was fine.

For now.

He knew it was just a beautiful lie.

“Were you playing pool alone?” she asked, her voice muffled into his shirt.

Michel chuckled, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I was—seems everyone who frequents the place knows they can’t win against me, I guess.”

“Don’t be cocky.”

He grinned as she leaned back just enough to look up at him. Her pretty lips had curved into a sly grin—one that told him she was joking. Always keeping him on his toes, this woman. How in the hell was he supposed to stay away from her?

If it keeps her safe, Michel …

He ignored his inner voice.

It wasn’t wrong, though.

They all had to make hard choices sometimes for the people they loved. That was yet another lesson this life had taught him. Sacrifice was ever-present, and more important than most men understood when it came to the mafia. To keep someone safe, a man needed to be willing to make the decisions that wouldn’t be acceptable or appreciated to the person they loved.

They didn’t have to like it.

They only had to understand.

Michel didn’t want this to be one of those times, but he couldn’t make that promise, either. There were a lot of variables around him and Gabbie, at the moment. A lot of unknowns, and he hated working on those.

That was a problem.

“Does your father know you’re here with—”

“Absolutely not,” she interjected sharply.

“Yeah, I figured.”